


Maybe It Can Be the Real Thing

by thurskay



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, Minor Alicia Clark/Jake Otto, Minor Nick Clark/Luciana, Secret Relationship, Smut, Troy and Nick brotp, Wardrobe malfunctions, a very long one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 08:38:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12790824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thurskay/pseuds/thurskay
Summary: This isn’t the first time Troy’s had to climb out Madison’s window.Modern AU in which Alicia and Jake’s engagement brings the Clarks and Ottos together for Thanksgiving, which proves frustrating for Troy in every possible way.





	Maybe It Can Be the Real Thing

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how the first fic I'm posting for these two ended up being smutty Modern AU humor (literally all my other incomplete fics are angst) but oh well. Here's my contribution to this twisted and beautiful ship.

 

There are reasons Troy doesn’t like to go shopping with Nick.

Reason number one: Nick seems to feel the need to flick _every single sales tag_ sticking off the shelves, to the point of backtracking if he misses any.

Reason number two: He constantly tries to steal the cart so that he can coast down the aisles (whether they are empty of fellow shoppers or not).

Reason number three:

“You know what gets me?” Nick says. “They’ve already got _Christmas_ stuff out.”

 _Here we go_ , Troy thinks.

“Have you seen these? Christmas themed spaghettiOs, because every pre-schooler wants to eat Santa this holiday season.”

Nick chucks the can into Troy’s cart, because Nick, too, is a pre-schooler who wants to eat Santa this holiday season.

“I mean,” Nick says, “Halloween literally just ended.”

“It ended three weeks ago, Nick.”

“And then of course we have the granola bars with the red and green chocolate chips. Are they even chocolate at this point?” Nick rattles the box as if the sound of the granola bars batting against each other will answer his question. “Whatever. They’re out so early they’ll go bad before Christmas even gets here. But it’s not like people think of that.”

“People don’t think of that because those are non-perishable.”

“They don’t see they’re being manipulated,” Nick continues, ignoring Troy. “If the big corporations give them snowmen or Christmas trees or a sprig of frigging holly they’ll fork over all their cash before it’s even December.”

“Look, I know all the Christmas stuff it annoying–”

“It’s _disgusting_ ,” Nick says, way too loudly. An old lady at the other end of the aisle glances back at them. Troy offers her a sheepish smile. Nick chucks the granola bars in next to the spaghettiOs.

“Would you stop throwing shit in the cart?”

“I’m being a consumer.”

“Madison gave us a list for a reason–”

“She gave _you_ a list.” Nick throws another box of granola bars over his shoulder, presumably aiming for the cart. Troy catches the box before it falls on the floor. Nick says, “ _I’m_ here to help carry the bags.”

A half hour later, they leave the grocery store, Troy carrying _all of the bags_ , Nick eating from a roll of raw Pillsbury cookie dough.

“I really thought they’d have the reindeer cookies out by now,” Nick says. “Mom used to get those for us when we were younger. You know, the ones that squish up in the oven so it looks like your reindeer got into a bar fight?”

“Big Otto never exactly bought us that kind of stuff.”

“Aw, poor little cult baby.” Nick pats Troy on the side of the face, and he looks so goddamn amused with himself that if Troy’s arms weren’t full of Madison’s groceries, and if this wasn’t Madison’s son, he’d throttle his best friend.

“Nick,” he says.

“I know.” Nick rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t a cult. But man, you’ve gotta admit, your dad’s really cult-leaderish, and he’s always got something in his punch.”

“I was going to say _open the trunk_.”

Nick does so with one hand, while taking a bite from his cookie dough roll. After Troy’s loaded in the groceries, Nick offers him the cookie dough and says around a huge mouthful, “Want some?”

Troy doesn’t bother to hide his disgust. “I’ll pass.”

They’re halfway back to Madison’s when Nick turns down the heavy metal blasting through the truck. “What if we drove into the lake?”

Troy doesn’t dignify this with a response.

“We’d get out of it no problem,” Nick says. “I’m immune to anything remotely suicidal, and you’re a strong swimmer.”

Nick only knows this, Troy bitterly reflects, because of that night Nick shoved Troy off a bridge. Which Nick did because – and this is a direct quote from Nick, after a very _done_ Troy dragged himself out of the river – “I wanted to see if you were a witch!”

Troy has since learned to ignore three a.m. texts from Nick that say, _“let’s hang out I’m outside with pizza.”_

Nick is never with pizza.

“Come on,” Nick prompts now, rolling his window up and down in boredom. “We’d be fiiiiiiine. The only casualties would be the groceries.”

“And my _car_.”

“You’ve got insurance.”

“Nick,” Troy says, in as calm a voice as he can manage – which, admittedly, isn’t all that calm. “What’s wrong with you today? You’re even more annoying than usual.”

“Thanks buddy.”

“Is this because of Thanksgiving?”

Nick rolls the window all the way up, then all the way down. “No.”

Troy sighs. “I know it’s going to be strange–”

“Yeah, but _you’re_ looking forward to it. Don’t deny that.”

He won’t. Troy _is_ looking forward to it. They used to have Thanksgiving back on the ranch when he was younger, but ever since his mom died and Jake went away to school, there wasn’t any point. Besides, those old Thanksgivings were as much of a sham as his father’s videos. It wasn’t about family coming together. It was about the pretense of family. About tradition.

This, with the Clarks and Jake, even if it’s strange, maybe it can be the real thing.

Troy asks, “Do you have a problem with my brother and me being there?”

“No. I guess not. It’s just…” Nick shrugs. “Why do you and I have to do all the grunt work? Jake and Alicia should do the grocery runs. It’s their fault Mom’s going overboard.”

“They’re planning a wedding, Nick. They’re busy. And Madison isn’t going overboard.”

Nick gives him an audacious look.

“She just wants it to be special,” Troy says. “It’s our first Thanksgiving as … er, together.”

He almost said, “as a family.” But he’s not ready to voice that thought aloud. It’s still hard for him to admit he wants that from the Clarks. He’s not even sure if he’s got a right to ask for it. After all, it’s Jake that’s marrying into the family, not Troy.

Though if Troy had his way…

“Just so you know,” Nick says, “I heard you say to Mom you’ll help her get the meal ready. No way in hell you’re hooking me into that. Have fun playing kitchen slave on your own.”

 _Oh_ , Troy thinks, _I will_.

 

Madison’s in the middle of peeling vegetables when Troy brings the groceries into the kitchen, but she stops to join him at the island. Nick heads straight for the fridge.

“ _Thank_ you,” Madison says, digging through the bags until she finds the carrots. “You’re a life saver, Troy.”

“It was nothing.”

“Hey,” Nick says, “I helped too. Where’s my life-saving title?”

“It’s _your_ fault I was short,” Madison says. “Seriously, Nick, you couldn’t have picked another night for your crazy cooking experiments? Literally any night _other_ than the one before Thanksgiving?”

“It wasn’t a crazy experiment. It was a stir-fry.”

“I had to clean up the aftermath,” Madison says. “It wasn’t a stir-fry.”

Nick shrugs and turns back to the fridge, poking through it for something to wash down all the cookie dough he ingested in the car. Troy, meanwhile, has started putting the groceries away. It’s so second nature, he doesn’t even really think about doing it, he just does it.

But he should have thought about it. Madison, no longer distracted by her son, notices what Troy’s doing. Sideling up to him under the pretense of grabbing something from the cupboard, she stamps on his foot.

Troy glares down at her, and she glares right back up. She mouths, _“Stop it.”_

Troy’s still puzzled, until she nods to what he’s doing – putting away the spices, in the right spot, in the exact order Madison likes them – and then she nods back to Nick.

 _Oh_ , Troy thinks. _Right._

Nick hasn’t noticed what Troy was doing. He’s still standing in front of the fridge, with the door open, and he’s got the milk carton in one hand and an energy drink in the other, contemplating.

“How long until we eat?” Nick asks.

“We’ll eat sooner if you help,” Madison says.

“Nice try, Mom.” Nick decides on the milk. When he turns around, he’s looking at Troy. “Since you’ll be tied up with hard labour all afternoon, can I borrow your car?”

Troy tosses Nick his keys. “Don’t drive it into a lake.”

“No promises.” Nick leaves the kitchen, with the entire carton of milk.

“Be back by five,” Madison calls after him, to which she receives a not so encouraging “uh-huh” and a slam of the front door. Madison raises an eyebrow at Troy and repeats, “Drive it into a lake?”

Troy shrugs. “He’s done stranger things.”

Madison doesn’t deny it. She picks up her knife and starts chopping the potatoes into chunks. She says, “You can’t do that, Troy.”

“What?” Troy asks, leaning against the counter beside her. “I can’t lend Nick my car?”

“You know what I mean.”

“It’s not incriminating to put groceries away, Madison.”

“It is when you shouldn’t know where everything goes!”

“Nick didn’t notice.”

“That’s because it’s _Nick_.” Madison brings her knife down hard on the vegetables with every swing. “If it was Alicia, she’d notice something’s up.”

“She hasn’t so far.”

“ _Troy_.”

“All right. I get it. I’ll be more careful.” Troy pushes off from the counter. “I don’t want to get in a fight today.”

Madison’s voice is still a little tight, but she says, “Neither do I.”

“Good.” Troy angles himself behind her, so he can put his hands on her waist, tug her gently against him. As he does so, he leans down to whisper in her ear, “Because I was thinking, since we’ve got the house to ourselves…”

“Alicia could be back any minute!”

“She and Jake are looking at venues. You know what they’re like. They’ll want every single damn detail about the place. There’s no way they’ll be back before five. And Nick just left, so…” Troy leans in and brushes his lips against Madison’s neck. She shudders under his touch, and Troy smirks, thinking he’s got her. But then she wriggles away from him.

Madison turns to face him. Even as Troy boxes her in against the counter, she keeps her poker face and says, “I’ve got too much to do. And _you_ said you’d help.”

“And I will. We’ll get it done in no time.” Troy drops his voice, to that pitch that makes Madison flush when they’re in bed. “You know how well we work together.”

Madison’s still trying to look stern, but Troy can tell she’s caving.

He leans in, so that there’s barely a sliver of air between their lips. He can feel her breaths, coming faster, shorter. He says, “Come on. We’ll be quick.”

“You sure know how to sell it to a lady.”

“You’re no lady, Madison.” He trails his lips along her jaw, making her shiver. “Not when it comes to this.”

“Shut up,” Madison says, and she fists her hands in his hair and yanks him down to her.

 

It started the way all healthy and solid relationships start: Madison punching Troy in the face because she thought he was her son’s drug dealer.

To be fair, Nick hadn’t told Madison he had a new roommate. So, when Troy got home from work and, upon coming into the apartment, his first words were, “Nick, you still owe me for the other day.” Troy can kind of see why Madison would misunderstand.

It certainly didn’t help that her mothering instincts were at an all-time, aggressive high. She’d just dropped in to find her son sprawled on the couch, unconscious from an overdose.

It was the first time Troy ever saw Nick like that. Nick had said he was an _ex_ -addict.

Not that Troy had time to process this lie, or even the scene in front of him, because then _Madison_ was in front of him. Troy had never seen a woman look so furious, so violent, so murderous, and he thought, _she’s beautiful._

And then her fist connected with his cheek.

A few death threats, fended-off assaults, and finally explanations later (“I’m his _roommate_. He owes me for the _power bill_.”), the ambulance arrived.

Nick was in hospital for a while, and then at rehab even longer, but he recovered. Troy wasn’t so lucky.

The moment Madison almost broke his jaw, he was a goner.

 

“ _Fuck_.”

 _God_ , Troy thinks, as he drives into her, _it’s so hot when she talks like that–_

“Fuck, Troy, get _off_.”

“What?” With great effort – and some annoyance – Troy pulls out, but he still hovers over her. His voice is breathy when he asks, “Why?”

“Because I just heard a car.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, Madison, there’s a road in front of your house. Cars drive on it”

“I heard someone pulling into the driveway!”

“It’s probably the neighbours.” Troy leans in to nip at her neck.

“What if it wasn’t – Jesus, Troy! Stop. I don’t want to wear a turtleneck today!”

“But you look so hot in turtlenecks.” He licks the flesh over her pulse.

Normally, that makes Madison arch her back. Right now, she _pushes his face away_.

“Madison,” Troy says, all attempts at seduction lost to annoyance. Her fingers are _this_ close to poking out his eyes.

“Shut up. I can hear something.”

“Yeah, it’s called paranoia–”

Somewhere in the house, a door slams. “Mom?”

“Fuck.” This time, it’s Troy that says it, and he thinks, _Alicia, you bitch._

Madison twists out from under him. She uses that nimbleness and agility of hers – which they should be taking full advantage of on the bed, sans clothes, right this minute – to _collect_ her clothes.

“Get dressed,” Madison says, as her fingers fly up her blue silk shirt, buttoning it in half the time it took Troy to unbutton the damn thing. “And get out.”

“Or,” Troy says, “we could take this opportunity to tell–”

Madison throws his pants at his face. His belt – which, like usual, he was too impatient to totally take off – whacks him in the chin.

“Dressed,” Madison says, “and out.”

She nods at the window.

“Seriously?” Troy says.

Madison presses a finger to her lips, the universal “shhh” sign that only Madison Clark could turn into a “shhh or I will disembowel you” sign.

“Mom?”

“Coming,” Madison calls and, with one more aggressive gesture at the window, she slips from the room.

Alone, Troy considers jacking off. But his frustration is only about twenty percent sexual (okay, forty-five) and if he jacks off now he’s going to be thinking of Madison (not that he’s ever done it thinking about anyone else) and considering that eighty (fifty-five) percent of his frustration is with Madison’s insistence on keeping their relationship secret, he feels like jacking off here, now, would be losing to her in some way.

See, this is the kind of deep emotional dilemma he needs to write about in his notebook. But he left the damn thing in his jacket.

Which he left in the kitchen.

 _Shit_ , Troy thinks.

 

As Troy gets dressed, he thinks maybe this is the perfect opportunity. Maybe Alicia will notice his jacket, and she’ll be as perceptible as Madison always claims she is, and she’ll say, “Hey, Mom, does this mean you and Troy are having sex?”

And maybe, in this wildly impossible fantasy, Madison _won’t_ be able to come up with a convincing lie to sell her daughter, and she’ll say, “He’s going to be my date to your wedding, and we’re probably going to have sex before and after the ceremony too.”

Troy’s broken from his daydreams when he snatches up his shirt and Madison’s black lace panties fall to the floor.

For a moment, Troy just stares at them. Then he starts to smirk.

 

This isn’t the first time Troy’s had to climb out Madison’s window.

There was that time Alicia came back immediately after her exams (don’t university students go partying after exams these days?). Then there was that time Alicia came back after her date with Jake instead of staying the night at his place (don’t young couples have looser morals these days?). Then there was that time Nick lost his keys to their apartment down a drainpipe…

No. Nope. That was Alicia too. Alicia dropped Nick’s keys down a drainpipe, thereby ruining the Clark sibling’s TV night, thereby bringing TV night back to Madison’s house, where the entire Clark family had a _How to Get Away With Murder_ marathon, while Troy slinked back home and maybe, accidentally, chucked Alicia’s psychology textbook out the fire escape.

Really, it wasn’t even her apartment. She shouldn’t have left her books there.

So, Troy is very experienced at sneaking away via window, but usually his car is parked one street over for a quick getaway. And usually his brother isn’t taking a phone call in the middle of the fucking lawn.

Luckily (if any of this situation can be called lucky), Jake doesn’t spot him until Troy reaches the sidewalk. When Jake pauses midsentence and gapes at Troy, Troy does his best to look nonchalant as he approaches the house, as if he was just strolling down the street, on his way here all along.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” Jake says into his phone, his eyes still on Troy. He holds up a finger for Troy, as if to say ‘one minute.’ Troy chooses to ignore that and points at the house, which he proceeds to walk towards, until Jake glares at him and mouths: _“Wait.”_

Troy considers going in anyway, but then Jake says into his cell, “I’m sorry, I’ll have to call you back.” and hangs up.

“Hey brother,” Troy says.

“What are you doing here?” Jake asks. “Dinner isn’t until five.”

“I forgot my jacket.” This clearly doesn’t help Jake’s confusion in the least. “I … Nick and I, we picked up some groceries for Madison earlier, and I left my jacket inside.”

Jake frowns, glancing behind Troy. “Where’s your car?”

“Oh. I, uh, lent it to Nick.”

“Nick? Are you sure that was a good idea?”

“I know it could be in safer hands…”

“Literally any hands would be safer.”

“Is that any way to talk about your future brother-in-law?”

Troy says this, knowing full well Alicia has said far worse about _her_ future brother-in-law. And to her mother, of all people.

Troy intercepted a text from Alicia once, when he was still in bed and Madison was in the shower.

 _My prof just gave a lecture on sociopathic tendencies_ , Alicia texted, _and I’m kind of worried for Jake because honestly Troy has a lot of them._

 _Fuck you, Alicia,_ Troy thought, and he deleted the text from Madison’s phone before joining her in the shower.

“Why didn’t Nick drop you back at your place?” Jake asks.

“I told Madison I’d help her cook.”

“Then you’re outside instead of inside helping her because…?”

 _Because she made me climb out the goddamn window_. Troy hikes his thumb over his shoulder, in the general direction of the corner store where he sometimes picks up condoms on his way here. “I was getting milk. Halfway there when I remembered my jacket. No jacket, no wallet.”

“Oh,” Jake says, finally relenting. “Want me to drive you to the store?”

“Or I could just borrow your car?”

“Or I could go get the milk? I’ll pay.”

Troy studies his brother. “You don’t want to go inside.”

Jake immediately puts on the elder sibling front, sighing in that way he does when he thinks Troy’s blowing things out of proportion. And sometimes Troy _is_ blowing things out of proportion. But other times Jake’s trying to hide something.

“If you really want to go get the milk yourself…” Jake begins.

“No, let’s do it together.” Troy heads for Jake’s car, climbing in shotgun. “It’s Thanksgiving, after all. We should do something today, just us brothers.”

Now, Jake almost looks like he’d rather go inside. As always, he knows when Troy’s planning something.

Troy leans over and pushes open the driver’s door. “C’mon, Jake.”

With a last glance at the house, Jake climbs into the car.

As they head down the street, Troy asks, “Aren’t you and Alicia supposed to be looking at venues?”

Huh. That sounded just as bitter out loud as it had in his head.

Jake doesn’t notice. He says, “We were, but Alicia–” Jake clears his throat. “ _We_ felt bad about leaving Madison with all the work.”

“You wanted to keep looking at venues?”

“It took a while to get some of those appointments,” Jake says, carefully, “but it’s fine, because we could reschedule most of them.”

So, Jake _is_ annoyed about skipping out on the venues. Troy isn’t surprised. Jake seems like an accommodating guy to a lot of people, but at the end of the day, Troy knows his big brother likes order as much as he does. Just a different kind of order. The sort with bookings and save-the-dates.

But that doesn’t really matter right now, because Troy’s pretty sure missing the venue appointments isn’t really what’s getting to Jake.

Troy says, “You just don’t want to spend the afternoon helping Madison.”

“I don’t mind helping–”

“Let me rephrase: you don’t want to spend any more time with Madison than you have to.”

By Jake’s strained expression, Troy knows he’s right.

“You’re gonna have to suck it up, brother,” Troy says. “Pretty soon we’re all gonna be one big family, and you’ll be seeing Madison a lot.”

“I know.” Jake’s voice is calm, but his grip on the steering wheel is white-knuckled. He’s going as fast as is legally possible in the Clark’s suburban neighbourhood. “It’s just … she doesn’t like me!”

“So? Alicia doesn’t like me, and I put up with her.”

“You _put up with her_? First, Troy, that’s my fiancé you’re talking about.” Jake pulls up in front of the corner store. “Secondly, you’ve never made any effort with Alicia. At least I’m trying with Madison.”

“All right, Jake. Whatever you say.”

Troy can tell that annoys his brother, and that Jake’s even more annoyed when Troy gets out of the car before he can respond. But Troy’s kind of annoyed too. Jake’s lucky that he can just go to the Clark’s house and see Madison whenever he wants. He doesn’t have to make bullshit excuses about grocery runs (runs which Troy doesn’t actually mind doing, not that he’ll ever admit to Madison he likes being her errand boy).

Jake follows Troy into the corner store, and the whole time Troy can tell Jake wants to say something else, but he’s bottling it up out of propriety. Jake’s never liked having private conversations in public. Knowing his brother’s bursting to speak to him, Troy takes even longer picking out the exact right kind of milk. There are so many choices, really.

Troy says, “What kind of milk do you think the Clarks drink? One percent? Two? Skim?”

“I don’t know.”

 _The answer’s two percent_. “You don’t even know what kind Alicia drinks?”

“She just has whatever’s in the fridge. Does it matter?”

“Guess not.” Troy takes a carton of one percent. Jake already has his wallet out, itching to go, but instead of heading to the cash, Troy heads to the fridge at the back of the store, where they keep all the alcohol.

“What are you doing?” Jake demands. “You don’t even drink.”

“Do you think the Clarks have any beer?”

“You don’t _drink_.”

“I’m being considerate, Jake. Everyone else drinks. Maybe Madison might want a beer after the meal.” She definitely won’t, Troy knows. She drinks beer, sometimes, but she prefers wine. She even has a pricey bottle from her friend, Victor Strand, which she plans to open tonight.

Troy takes out a case of beer and hands it to Jake. He says, “Get this for your future mother-in-law. Maybe she’ll like you more.”

Jake scowls, but he takes the beer up to the counter with the milk.

The moment they’re back in the car, Jake’s words come out in a rush, “I think Madison hates me because she thinks I’m too old for Alicia.”

Troy can’t help it; he snorts.

“I’m being serious! Madison’s protective of her kids, and Alicia’s her youngest, and I’m almost ten years older…”

Troy is really, really trying not to laugh.

“Troy.”

“I’m sorry,” Troy says, but he isn’t. “You’re probably right.”

“Thanks. Thank you. That doesn’t help _at all_.”

“What can I say? You’re fucked.”

“I think I might be. Did I tell you? Madison’s going to give Alicia away at the wedding. I mean, I get it. They’re really close, and with Alicia’s dad being gone and all…” Jake shakes his head. “I want Alicia to do whatever makes her happy, it’s just – and I know how stupid this sounds – but I’ve been having these dreams that it’s the day of the wedding, and they’re coming down the aisle, but when they get to the end Madison won’t let go of Alicia. That’s stupid, right?”

“Very. But, having said that, I’m not the one you should talk to about this. Maybe a therapist? Or a _guidance councillor_?”

Jake kicks Troy out of the car.

 

They were only ten minutes from the house but, still, that’s ten more minutes without his fucking jacket.

It’s not that Troy’s cold. It’s just a matter of principle. In most relationships, you’re allowed to grab your jacket on the way out. Not that he ever thought for one minute that he and Madison would fall under the category of ‘most relationships’. But couldn’t they at least have adopted the jacket clause? And, while they’re at it, the ‘tell the family’ clause?

Yes, Troy knows Madison’s kids, and Jake, will be pissed and uncomfortable. But Troy’s long since gotten used to disappointing Jake, and he doesn’t give a shit what Alicia thinks. Getting in a fight with Nick wouldn’t be a new experience, though Troy knows that a fight about this – about Nick’s mother – could risk their friendship. And, yeah, that makes him uneasy, because Nick’s become almost as important to him as Madison. But Troy wants to be with Madison. Actually be _with_ her. And he’ll pay whatever price it takes to make that happen.

Except if the price is losing her, which it will be, if he comes clean to the others without her go-ahead. He gets it. The stakes are higher for Madison. She’s super close with both her kids, but those relationships have each been rocky. The Clarks, as a unit of three, are finally on steady footing with each other. Madison isn’t willing to jeopardize it.

(Troy still stands by the argument of “they’d get over it,” which never seems to go down well with Madison.)

So. Not telling Nick and Alicia. Not telling Jake. Not telling anyone. For all intents and purposes, today Troy is simply Nick’s old roommate and Alicia’s future brother-in-law.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t secretly be the guy who gives Madison hell.

Fingering the item folded away in his pocket, Troy grins.

 

Jake’s still outside, in his car, when Troy gets back to the house. Jake just finishes up his phone call – or maybe he postpones it again – when Troy knocks on the driver side window.

Opening his door, Jake says, “Sorry about making you walk. With the wedding and everything, I’m just … I know it’s no excuse, but I’m really stressed out.”

“Is this the part where I don’t say something sexist like ‘what are you, the bride?’.”

“Yes, this is the exact part where you don’t say that.” Jake grabs the bag from the grocery store as he gets out of the car. He gives Troy a measuring look. “Are you going to be okay, during dinner?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been taking classes in political correctness.” When Jake gives him a long look, Troy says, “I’m being serious. I have a tutor and everything.” He almost adds, _want to meet her?_ “Jake, don’t worry. I’ll do you so proud tonight dad would hate me even more than he already does. Speaking of, that wasn’t him, was it? On the phone?”

Troy ignores the way his heartbeat speeds up after he’s asked the question.

“No,” Jake says. “It was a client, for this new case we picked up. I told them to come into the firm tomorrow, so they shouldn’t call me again today.”

“So, you haven’t heard from dad.”

“Not for weeks. You?”

Troy shakes his head. He doesn’t really know how he feels about the fact their father hasn’t called on Thanksgiving. It’s not like he’s called on this day the past couple of years, but something’s different this year. Maybe it’s because Troy’s actually going to a family dinner, instead of just eating take-out with Jake while they steadily avoid talking about their own family. It just feels like, if Big Otto really did see his sons as family, rather than just heirs, he’d call on a day like this.

But he only ever calls when he’s so pissed off he needs to yell at someone, and he’s so drunk he forgets he swore never to speak to his sons again.

Troy knows it was the right decision, going with Jake that last time, when Jake finally convinced Troy to leave the ranch. But there’s still that small part of him, somewhere, that feels like he’s failed his father.

It’s a very small part.

 

“That was a long phone call,” Alicia says, when they come into the kitchen. She’s in the middle of mashing potatoes, but stills for a moment when she spots Troy behind Jake, and her face falls into that (Troy thinks, _juvenile_ ) pouting expression.

“Sorry,” Jake says. He goes over and kisses Alicia lightly on the mouth, and she goes on tip-toe to meet him. It’s an intimate, yet casual greeting, and Troy feels a brief flash of resentment towards them for being able to do that in front of people. “I should have texted. We were getting the milk.”

“The milk?” Alicia repeats.

“The milk,” Troy says, turning to Madison, who’s been discretely glaring at him since he came in, “which your mother asked me to pick up for her. Right, Madison?”

“Right.” She smiles at him so sweetly, and looks at him so murderously, that Troy almost throws her over his shoulder right then and there.

“Oh, and Madison…” Jake hands her the case of beer. “This is for you. Er, for the house. Whoever wants it.”

“Thank you, Jake.” Madison’s smile is even faker than before, if possible. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

Madison turns to put the beer away in the bottom shelf of the cupboard – or, in the Clarks’ house, the excess-shit-to-offload-on-unwanted-visitors shelf. Jake looks back at Troy long enough to give him a grateful, if surprised, thumbs up.

Troy’s having a really hard time keeping it together.

Madison puts them all to work immediately. It’s not exactly what Troy had in mind when he volunteered as kitchen helper. It’s more what Nick ran away from. Madison, as Troy has always known, is a hard task master.

Usually, that turns him on. Today, it’s just increasingly annoying, since Alicia and Jake are there, and they keep touching each other in these thoughtless, established-couple ways, and it’s making Troy lose his appetite.

The only thing keeping his mood up is his plan for later.

They’re almost done the meal prep when Troy gets a text from Nick:

_Sorry I’ve been weird lately. I’m fine now. Tell mom to set an extra place for tonight._

Another text comes in:

_*weirder_

“Nick’s bringing someone to dinner,” Troy says, as he slides his phone away.

Alicia looks at her mother. “Do you think he’s back with Luciana?”

“Maybe.” Madison’s lips thin. It’s only a slight change in her expression, but Troy catches it.

Troy knows that Madison actually likes Luciana – she liked her a lot, at first. It was Nick’s relationship with Luci that helped him quit his addiction the first time. And it was their break up that sent him back into a downward spiral, culminating in his hospitalization. So, Troy can’t really blame Madison for being wary about the idea of the two getting back together. She was anxious enough when they reconnected a couple of months back, though she was able to hide that from everyone. Everyone but Troy.

Now, seeing her worry rekindled, Troy wants to go put his arms around her. He wants to support her like he can when they’re alone, like she’s supported him through his struggles coming to terms with the world outside the ranch.

While Alicia finishes showing Jake how to make the Clark family stuffing, Madison leaves to set the table. Troy goes to help her and, honestly, it’s only in part to have a moment alone with Madison. Even if he’d had to set the table by himself, he’d do it to escape Alicia and Jake playing house.

When he enters the dining room, Madison barely spares him a glance before she goes back to collecting the good cutlery from the hutch. “Tell Nick we’re eating earlier. He – _they_ , should come over now.”

“I’ve already told him.” Specifically, Troy texted _“get your ass over here.”_ He figures that’s close enough to Madison’s request.

Troy reaches Madison just as she turns around. He raises his arms, to embrace her. She shoves fistfuls of utensils into his open hands.

“ _Jesus_ , Madison.” Troy just manages to keep a hold on the knives, even though three of them almost sliced into his palm.

Madison points the turkey carver at him. “Don’t come at me like you’re going to push me down.”

“I wasn’t. I was going to _hug_ you. You know? That comforting, calming gesture, that doesn’t involve stabbing people.”

“My daughter’s in the next room,” Madison hisses, “if you hug me, you bet your ass I’m going to stab you. We’ve talked about this, Troy.”

“If you mean you’ve shut down every chance we’ve had to talk about it–”

Madison brushes past him. “Set the table.”

“Exhibit A.”

“Help me with this,” Madison snarls, smoothing out a placemat, “or go back in the kitchen.”

Troy lays down the cutlery, each set in a different order, to annoy Madison. He can tell she notices, because a muscle in her jaw starts to tick, but she refuses to acknowledge the mess he’s made of the table. Instead, she folds cloth napkins with such aggressive hand movements it’s like she’s tying pretty, little scarlet nooses.

Finished his part, Troy sidles up to Madison. She pretends to ignore him, but she’s particularly hard on the current napkin in her hands.

“Instead of setting my place with that,” Troy says, pulling something from his pocket, “why don’t you use this?”

Madison glances down, then does a double take. Her eyes widen.

“Why do you have those?” Madison hisses.

“I think the better question is, why don’t you have them?” She makes a grab for her panties, but Troy stuffs them back in his pocket. He smirks. “In a bit of a hurry earlier, were you, Madison?”

“ _Troy_ –”

In the hall, the front door opens, and Nick calls, “Hey, is something burning?”

“Fuck off, Nick!” Alicia snaps, from the kitchen.

Troy says to Madison, “Aren’t you going to go greet your son and his guest? Play the part of the decent hostess.”

Madison glares at him before striding past.

“Oh, and Madison…” He catches her arm and reels her in, so he can speak directly in her ear. “If you decide to make some bullshit excuse and slip away to your bedroom for a minute, then what I’ve got in my pocket might, well, fall out at an inopportune moment tonight.”

When Troy pulls back, the look Madison gives him … Yep. She’s going to straight up murder him later.

Somehow, that makes him even more excited.

 

“Thank you for letting me join you on such short notice,” Luciana says.

“It’s no problem,” Madison says, as she brutally hacks at the turkey.

“Madison,” Troy says, “do you want a hand with that?”

“I’ve got it” has never sounded more like “go fuck yourself” to Troy in his whole life.

“Mom, seriously, let him help.” Nick looks thoroughly amused. “It’s starting to look like you put it through a paper-shredder.”

“If you don’t like how it looks, Nick, you can cut it yourself.”

Nick contemplates the length of the table – which isn’t that long, but just long enough so that he’d have to get up to reach the turkey.

He says, “You’re doing great, Mom.”

After they’ve all served themselves, Luciana starts asking Alicia and Jake about the wedding. This, normally, would get on Troy’s nerves, and make him a little resentful of Luciana (every time a new person shows up they have to rehash every mind-numbing wedding detail). But tonight is different.

Troy doesn’t mind the wedding talk is because it distracts everyone, and puts the focus at the other end of the table. No one’s looking at him, or Madison.

Under the table, Troy slips his hand onto Madison’s bare knee.

She tenses and, for a moment, shock flashes in her gaze. Then she’s schooled her expression back into one of polite listening, though she’s obviously not paying attention to the wedding talk anymore. She jolts her knee, in an attempt to dislodge Troy’s hand.

Fair’s fair. She doesn’t want his hand on her knee. So, he slides his hand up under her skirt.

Casually, Madison lays down her fork and reaches into her lap, as if to adjust her napkin. Her fingers lock around Troy’s wrist in an iron grasp.

Without removing his hand, Troy turns his attention to the other end of the table and says, “Hey Alicia, is it true Madison’s giving you away?”

“Yeah.” Alicia smiles down the table, directly at her mother. “I’m really glad you agreed, Mom.”

Troy starts pushing his hand up Madison’s leg again, just as she opens her mouth to speak. Her voice only hitches a little as she says, “Of course, sweetie. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Really, Madison?” Troy presses, both with his words and his hand. Fury streaks through Madison’s gaze as she meets his eyes. Troy grins, as though he’s teasing. “You’re actually looking forward to giving away your daughter?”

“Yeah, Mom,” Nick jokes, “I thought, if you’d be happy to get rid of one of us, it’d be me.”

“Ignore them, Madison,” Luciana says. “I think it is beautiful that you are doing this for Alicia.”

“Thank you, Luci–”

Madison bites her lip on what Troy is sure would have been a gasp, because that’s exactly when his fingers graze her inner thigh.

Madison plays off the lip-biting as if she was embarrassed by what she said, and she adds, “Do you mind if I call you Luci?”

Luciana’s taken aback, but then she beams. “I would like that very much.”

“I think that calls for refills,” Nick says, grabbing Strand’s wine from the centre of the table. After he’s filled the glasses in his immediate vicinity, he turns to Madison. “Mom?”

He’s holding the bottle out, waiting for her to offer her nearly empty glass. But Madison can’t do that, because her dominant hand is the only thing keeping Troy’s hand in place.

“I’m okay for now,” Madison says.

“Ha. Yeah, right, Mom.” Nick tilts the bottle precariously, as if to pour over the spot where her glass should be. “You don’t want it to go to waaaaste.”

Madison makes a valiant attempt to stay on top of both situations. She releases Troy to snatch up her wine glass, which she then thrusts out in time to catch the wine. Meanwhile, under the table, the moment she released Troy with one hand, she tried to grab him with the other.

Tried.

Madison can’t stop her gasp this time, but it’s not that suspicious considering the very moment Troy touches her _there_ , she spills her wine. Troy isn’t sure if she does it purposefully or not, or if it’s just karma, but it spills in his direction.

It’s actually a pretty controlled spill. It gets on the edge of the table cloth, but aside from that it just splatters Troy’s shirt and the floor.

“Shit,” Madison says, looking at the stain on the table cloth. Then she meets Troy’s eyes, her own steely. “I’m so sorry. I’ll get you another shirt.”

“I can get it,” Nick says. “You still keep my old clothes boxed in the garage?”

“It’s my fault, I’ll get it. You all enjoy the meal.” Madison says this to the table, then she stands and says, “Troy?”

He follows her through the house and into the garage. Once the door’s shut behind them, Troy says, “Have I been called into the principal’s– _fuck_.”

This, because as soon as Troy started talking, Madison socked him in the gut.

“Give them back,” she orders.

“As if it’s going to be that easy–”

“I swear if you don’t do every goddamn thing I say right now, we’re through. Understand?”

Troy glares at her. Madison holds out her hand, palms up.

He hesitates a moment more, but he can see how determined she is. _Damn it._

He hands her back her panties. Which she proceeds to put on right in front of him.

She hikes her skirt up, almost high enough for Troy to get a peek, while she pulls her panties back on. He’s seen her naked before, of course, a bunch of times, but he never gets tired of it.

But just when he’s about to get a glimpse, Madison pulls her skirt back down. While she smooths it over her hips, she says, “Take off your pants.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Troy.”

He has no idea what the hell this is about, but after that tease, and after her reactions at the dinner table, he’s too aroused to think through the consequences. He just unbuckles his belt and lets his pants drop to the floor.

Madison watches, her gaze impassive. She says, “And now your boxers.”

When Troy’s standing in front of her in only his stained shirt, Madison walks over to him, and there’s that slight swing of her hips that drives him crazy. Crazi _er_.

“Now, this part’s important, Troy.” Madison’s voice is low and sultry as she starts unbuttoning his shirt. “You’re not going to touch me. I’m touching you. Understand?”

Dumbly, he nods.

“Good,” Madison says, and there’s that sweet smile again, just as she grabs his cock.

“You were doing really well today,” Madison says, as she starts massaging him, and Troy immediately goes rigid under her expert touch. “You pushed the boundaries a bit, but you always do. What’s important is that you listened to me, and you left when I asked, and when you realized you’d left something behind you even came up with a decent cover story. I was impressed.”

Madison gives his shaft a hard yank, and Troy hisses, half in pleasure and half in pain.

“Was,” Madison repeats. “I was impressed. But you just had to go and fuck it up.”

She starts jerking him off, aggressively, and Troy can barely process what she’s said to him, because what she’s doing hurts in just the right way, and that furious look in her eyes is so hot, and he’s getting so close–

Madison stops.

“You know what the worst part is?” Madison leans and trails her tongue over the light red stains on his chest. “You made me waste some really good wine.”

“ _Madison_.” Troy’s practically pleading.

Instead of putting her hands on his shaft again, she pats his cheek and gives him a demeaning smile. “Nick’s old clothes are in the boxes by the tool-bench.”

And then she walks away. Troy stares after her, dumbfounded and hurting, this time not in the right way. In a very wrong, very aching way.

“Oh, and Troy?” Madison pauses at the door. “Don’t finish.”

 

To put it mildly, Troy’s uncomfortable when he returns to the dining room. To put it accurately, his pants feel like a torture device.

“Ha,” Nick says, when he spots Troy. “I always hated that shirt.”

“Where’s Jake?” Troy asks.

“He got a call,” Alicia says.

“That client?” Troy takes his seat. Someone brought in a new chair, and the floor’s been wiped up. “Jake must be losing his charm if he can’t get them to leave him alone for one night–”

“It isn’t the client,” Alicia snaps.

That’s when Troy notices how tense she is.

“Alicia?” Madison asks, concerned. Whatever happened, apparently Madison wasn’t here for it either.

Alicia looks straight at Troy when she says, “It’s your father.”

 

Nothing’s wrong with Jeremiah. Well. Nothing new. He just got into the whisky early today, and when dinner time rolled around he was feeling up to ruining his eldest son’s night. Jake was outside for almost fifteen minutes. Troy knows how hard it is for him to hang up on their father. Jake’s talked to Troy about it, about the things Jeremiah says.

“He’s awful. He’s _vile_. But… I don’t know, it’s like each time, I think maybe this is the call where I get through to him.”

Jake’s attempts to “get through” to their father always end in Jake getting worked up, shouting right back, and finally getting disgusted with himself as well as with Jeremiah. Sometimes it’s not even Jake who hangs up first.

It was Jake, tonight, but by that point Jeremiah had already gotten into his head. Jake tried to rejoin the meal, but ultimately had to apologize to everyone – especially to Madison – and excuse himself. Alicia wanted to follow him, but he told her to stay, to spend time with her family. She probably would have followed him anyway.

But she didn’t have to, because Troy did.

Jake was right. Alicia should spend time with _her_ family. The Clarks aren’t their family. They’ll be Jake’s, eventually, but even then, Troy knows he’ll be an extra. Like Luciana was tonight, except maybe, one day, Luciana will get to join the family too.

Even if Madison hasn’t dumped him yet, Troy knows it’ll happen eventually. And then he really will just be Nick’s old roommate and Alicia’s brother-in-law. Enough to get him invited to meals. Not enough to make him something other than an outsider.

As Jake talks through and eventually breaks down over his phone call with their father, Troy watches his brother and a part of him can’t help thinking, _I’m an outsider here too._

Because in the two years since Troy left the ranch, Jeremiah hasn’t called _him_.

Not once.

 

It’s past eleven when someone knocks on Troy’s apartment door.

He figures it must be Jake. That’s the only person who would visit him right now, of the few who Troy had keys cut for. It’s definitely not Nick; he’ll be with Luciana tonight.

Still, Troy didn’t expect Jake to come around again – he figured Alicia would want to hear all about the phone call, and keep Jake talking through his feelings into the morning.

Troy forces down his growing sense of dread as he answers the door. He doesn’t want to talk about their father anymore. It’s bad enough he’s spent the past few hours waiting for a phone call that’s never going to come.

Madison pushes past him as soon as he opens the door, without so much as a greeting. She’s got a Tupperware container, which she leaves on the counter in his open kitchen.

“Leftovers,” she says, “since you didn’t get a chance to finish.”

“You could’ve used your key.”

“You weren’t expecting me. I didn’t want to barge in.” Madison nods at the door. “Are you gonna close that?”

“Are you staying?”

“I’m just here to talk, Troy.”

Troy takes a breath, and he hates how it shudders. He shuts the door – slams it, a little, though he doesn’t mean to – and he says, “I really can’t do this right now, Madison.”

“We need to talk–”

“Look, if you’re going to break it off, can you just cut the bullshit and–”

Troy’s phone starts ringing.

He snatches it from the coffee table. He’s in such a rush he almost doesn’t check the caller ID. He doesn’t intend to, he just means to answer it, but then he catches one word, flashing across the screen of his cell.

Troy stares at his phone. He lets it keep ringing.

“Who is it?” Madison asks.

It’s a simple question, with a simple answer: _Work_. But Troy can’t bring himself to respond.

His phone keeps ringing, and the sound’s suddenly jarring, so he ends the call. And then something in him snaps.

He hurls his phone at the wall.

There’s a crack, and then the phone falls out of sight, behind the sofa. He’s probably broken it, but right now he can’t see how it matters. Nothing matters. Nothing except all those days and months and years where Troy hasn’t heard his father’s voice, but he can feel his presence, pressing down on him. It’s overwhelming.

 “ _Troy_.”

Troy doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Madison’s there in front of him, her hands on his arms, rubbing gently up and down, trying to calm him.

“Troy,” she repeats. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

There’s genuine concern in her eyes. Troy’s never seen that look in her before, not directed at him. He wants to drown in it.

Until she says, “Was it your father?”

“No.” Troy pulls away from Madison. “No, see, Big Otto already spoke to Jeremiah Jr. today. There’s no point in talking to both sons.” He catches the way she’s looking at him, and he feels a humorless smirk spread across his lips. “You don’t have to analyze me, Madison. I’ll tell you what I’m thinking, if you ask. But do you really want to get into it? You don’t have any obligation to me.”

“Are you seriously saying that? We’ve been together for a year and a half!”

“But we haven’t. Sure, we’ve been _together_ , and that’s been really fucking good. But _we_ aren’t together. It’s just something on the side, right? A past-time.”

There’s a hard set to Madison’s jaw. “That’s how you feel?”

“Doesn’t really matter, does it? We’re never going to be any more than this. Hell, I’d take it, anyway. I like the feel of you, Madison. But it isn’t my decision.”

“I guess that means it’s mine,” Madison says acidly, and there’s something about her that’s even sharper than this evening, when Troy went overboard. She was furious at him, then. This is quieter. This is deadly, and growing. “And since I think it’s just a past-time, we might as well give up on it, right?”

Troy shrugs. Madison’s hands fist at her sides.

“Going to hit me again?” Troy asks. “You could go for the face. End it how we started.”

“Don’t take it out on me,” Madison says, “just because your father’s ignoring you.”

Troy shakes his head, grinning to himself. “See, Madison, you _always_ get me.”

“But you don’t always get me! I didn’t come here to break it off, Troy. I came here to talk it out.”

Troy’s next response dies on his lips.

Madison says, “You were an asshole today – and that can’t happen anymore – but you were right about one thing. Whenever you bring up telling people, I shut it down. That isn’t fair. You deserve a proper response.” Madison’s gaze is steely, unwavering. “I’ve got conditions.”

Trying to get his mind around the current situation – with how wrong he was about it – Troy nods for Madison to continue.

“First, we’re keeping it secret until after the wedding. And I don’t mean immediately after they say their vows. I mean after the papers go through, after the honey moon, after they’re settled. I’m not going to put stress on Alicia as she starts her married life, and you shouldn’t want to do that to your brother either.”

“Right,” Troy says, still processing, still shocked.

“Second, Nick has to be in a good place. I don’t care if that’s with Luciana, or someone else, or on his own. If he’s dealing with any shit, then I – then _we_ , get him through that first.”

“Of course.”

“Third…” Madison glances at the wall, where Troy threw his cell phone. She looks back at him. “You have to handle this thing with your father.”

Troy sets his jaw.

“If he won’t call you,” Madison says, “then you know you have to call him.”

“He’ll see that as weakness.”

“Is that how you see it?”

“Stop talking to me like I’m one of your students, Madison!”

“I’m talking to you like you’re my partner,” Madison snaps, taking a step towards him. “Should I stop?”

Frustration boiling inside him, Troy manages a tight: “No.”

“Good. Then you call your father.”

Troy’s voice comes out smaller than he intended when he says, “What if he convinces me to go back?”

“ _What_? Is that what you want?”

“No! No, of course not. It’s just that … he’s my _father_. He’s a drunk bastard, but he still knows what to say half the time. And the ranch was my home for most of my life.” Troy runs a hand through his hair. “Things were so much easier back there.”

“So, you’d rather have an easy life, even if it’s one without Jake, or Nick, or me?”

“ _No_.” Troy takes her hands. He’s suddenly, irrationally, afraid she’ll disappear. “I want _you_ , Madison.”

“And I want you with _me_. You can’t be with me if part of you is still on the ranch.”

“I’ll call him.” Troy’s voice shakes when he says it. He swallows, steels himself. “I’ll talk to him. Even if he just calls me a useless, ungrateful shit.”

“Ungrateful might be on the mark.” Madison nods back, towards the kitchen. “You didn’t thank me for the leftovers.”

“I’m sorry,” Troy says, squeezing her hands harder. “About today.”

“Still not a thank you.”

“Thank you.” Troy cups her face in his hands and leans down, slanting his mouth across hers. Madison goes up on her toes to accommodate him, and then her arms are snaking around his neck, and then her tongue is pushing against his lips, and suddenly Troy remembers his pain from earlier that afternoon, and how he still hasn’t finished.

But there’s something else he has to finish first. Rather, clarify.

Pulling back, Troy says, “Really quick: those three conditions, if we meet them, you’re actually willing to go public?”

“There’s a fourth condition,” Madison says. Troy’s just about to roll his eyes when Madison whispers in his ear, “You’ve gotta keep performing.”

They’ve got problems, a whole hell of a lot, but _that_ , Troy thinks, as he scoops Madison up and carries her into the bedroom, is never going to be one.


End file.
